As it Burns
by Zohh
Summary: Drabble series, various pairings. Drabble Twelve: SRDP...what?
1. Platonic

New drabble series based off of random bursts of ideas and A Fine Frenzy.

* * *

George walked into the small apartment, slamming the door shut as he came in, and plopped his bag down on the ground.  A girl was sitting at the table, mindlessly eating a slice of presumably cold pizza as she skimmed through an outdated magazine.

"You were right," he said, now gaining the attention of one Lexie Grey.

"You were right.  You helped me study, you fed me, you decorated my locker... and I didn't think to ask for you."

"George," Lexie dropped her half eated pizza, but he stopped her.

"No.  You- you have been great and wonderful this whole time, and I've been wrapped up in becoming a resident that- I mean, never even thank you!" George said, walking up to the table.

Lexie almost rolled her eyes.  He did thank her.  When she got him to ask the chief if he could retake his exam.  He also kissed her, but she doubted he even remembered that.

"I _have_ been such a jerk, but you, no... you're not an idiot.  _I've_ been an idiot.  I couldn't even see it..."

Giving up on listening to him, Lexie picked up her old magazine and continued reading it, despite the fact that the news in it was from three weeks ago.  Perhaps it would have helped to listen to him ramble, because then she would know that residents aren't allowed to choose their interns, making it pointless for George to ask for her. 

She briefly glanced up to see George turning around to walk away, and she gave a smug smile on the inside as she flipped the page.  Within two seconds of the page being turned George had turned back around and pulled the magazine out of her hands, letting it fall to the floor.

"Hey," Lexie stood up, about to reach down for it, "what was-"

"Thank you," George said, after removing his lips from hers.

Lexie took a deep breath and gave an uncertain nod after receiving her second thank you and second kiss.  Which then soon became a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, and she finally saw that it wasn't platonic.

* * *

Because I felt that George needed to redeem himself.  I also felt the need to write mindless fluff.


	2. A Cold Bed

Takes place after _These Ties that Bind_. A look into how Callie really feels now that Erica is gone.

* * *

The empty side of the bed felt cold. Cold, and bare. Callie turned over on her side and closed her eye, pulling the covers up to her chin.

"_Callie… are you speaking the vagina monologues now?"_

Sighing, she buried her head into the pillow, trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position.

"_I don't ah…make friends easily. I'm awkward and am bad at small talk and generally don't like people I don't know, but I made friends with you…"_

Her eyes shot open, and she had to force herself not to turn over. The other side was cold. There was no one else there; she was alone.

"_See? Too much for you,"_

She didn't like the cold, and she didn't like being alone. She shouldn't have slept with Mark Sloan. Twice.

"_I'm saying something here! I just, I wanted to say… I just wanted to say…"_

Slowly, she brought her hand up to her lips. They were in desperate need of lip balm. But they, much like the empty side of the bed, were cold. Kissless, one could say.

"_Kind of virgins. And yeah, we can be scared together,"_

Fear is for the weak, or so it has been said. But it wasn't so much as fear as it was as panic. And as she woke up for the fifth time that night, panic was slowly seeping its way into her body.

"_I think I just hate him because he's seen you naked,"_

This time when her eyes flew open from a short, livid dream, a small smirk graced her lips. The smile that came along with the comment in her dream made it harder for her not to turn over, even just for a second, to the empty side of the bed. Because the empty side was cold, and she didn't like the cold.

"_We are doing this."_

The panic returned as she woke up that night for the seventh time. Her back was starting to ache and she really wanted to turn over. Perhaps she could withstand the cold. She, however, thinks better of it and pulls the covers tighter around her.

"_Take off…your pants."_

It was starting to become unbearable. The waking up, the panic, the emptiness, and the coldness. She shouldn't have sided with Izzie Stevens. Maybe her back wouldn't hurt as much if she hadn't sided with Izzie Stevens.

Giving in, Callie turn over, relieving her aching neck and back. The empty side really wasn't as cold as she thought it was going to be. Yes, it was bare, but it really wasn't that cold.

She sighed heavily, rubbing her hand against the sheets that didn't have a person lying on them. It was then, at the precise moment, that Callie thought she was going crazy. Because Erica Hahn definitely wasn't lying there before. She rubbed her soon-to-be-bloodshot-from-lack-of-sleep eyes, feeling as though she could hear her.

"_You are glasses…"_

Erica Hahn was lying there, an angry expression on her face. Callie knew she had gone completely crazy now. Sleeping with Mark twice, siding with Izzie Stevens, breaking down in front of her colleagues... there was definitely something wrong with her. And now Erica Hahn is lying in her bed looking angry.

_"I don't know you...."_

Callie cried again, much like she did in front of her colleagues and the dead patient. But this time it was in front of an angry Erica Hahn. The one that wasn't there but she could see anyway.

And the bed was cold again. Cold, and bare.

* * *

If Izzie can see that ghost of a dead person, Callie should be able to the ghost of a living person (because then it's not really a ghost).


	3. Denver vs Arizona

Denver wasn't too terrible. Not really. Sure, it was cold, and in Colorado, but Mark could suck it up.

Callie, however, hated Denver. Cold wasn't her thing. So when Mark decided to go to Denver, AKA Lexie Grey's bed, she then decided that she hated Mark too. Because in her opinion, it wasn't fair. They were supposed to support each other, and now he's gone off to sleep with an intern.

Stupid one-step program.

She thought the best thing to do would just be to completely swear off of sex. Specifically with interns. Without sex, she wouldn't have to worry about Sadie. Crazy Sadie. Crazy Hot Sadie.

"No!" Callie yelled at herself, mentally of course. She was walking through the corridors of the hospital with a disgruntled look plastered on her face when she saw Sadie and another intern walking in the other direction. A few nurses stared at her, but she wasn't really paying attention.

Perhaps Callie should have been paying attention, though, because she ran straight into someone, nearly knocking said person to the ground.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," Callie said, looking up at the blonde doctor she had rammed into.

"It's alright," The other doctor smiled. "I don't believe I know you. I'm Doctor Arizona Robbins, taking over for Doctor Kennely."

Shaking Doctor Robbin's hand, Callie couldn't help but smile back at her. "I'm Doctor Callie Torres."

"Well, it was very nice to meet you." Arizona said, her mouth still stretched upward. "Maybe we'll see each other again,"

"Yeah,"

Denver might suck, but Arizona was looking pretty good.

* * *

The idea was just too good to pass up.


	4. Bitter

Callie walked into the apartment, her legs tired from standing all day in surgery, and immediately flopped down on the couch. The straps of her purse fell carelessly off of her shoulder, the brown colour clashing with the blue that she was sitting on. A bitter taste was left in her mouth from the lukewarm coffee she drank earlier and she felt the need to ultimately get rid of said taste.

She reluctantly got up from her cushiony spot, heading into the kitchen to find some sort of alcoholic beverage. Because alcohol is always the best thing after a four and a half hour surgery and a shift with annoying interns.

The _Merlot_ that had been shoved to the back of the cupboard would have to do. They seriously needed to restock on their alcoholic beverages. How Callie and Christina ended up with only a bottle of Merlot is unknown and quite frankly strange, but it would suffice for this one night.

As she poured the red win into a glass, Callie thought back on the last time she had consumed wine. The past two times she had gone to Joe's she went for the gin. Wine was something she would normally only drink with…Erica.

Erica Hahn. What a bitter thought, really, considering the amount of grief it brought upon Callie when she remembered the cardio surgeon. The incredibly hot cardio surgeon, she might add.

But Erica was gone. Out of Seattle and out of her mind.

So when Callie pushed Erica Hahn out of her mind and brought the glass of wine to her mouth, she nearly gagged.

It was bitter.

* * *

Callie and Erica and their wine parties...oh how I miss those...

PS. I was listening to _Ashes and Wine_ for this one!


	5. Six Months

Just a quick one because it was Valentine's Day. Callie/Erica-esque, naturally.

* * *

Six months ago, they came to an agreement. It was a fairly simple agreement, and both parties seemed pleased with the agreement. It was going to be a slow process, but they were ready for it. Because, they came to an agreement.

But that, of course, was six months ago.

Now, that agreement was long forgotten. It was an agreement that both thought would work out very nicely, but ended up failing completely. The slow process ended up going haywire and it spun out of control. Things wound up getting so bad that the two people- the two the came to said agreement- split up, and haven't seen or heard from each other in six months.

So it's no surprise that Erica Hahn was shocked one day while working at John's Hopkins. She had just finished a valve replacement and was heading into a bypass surgery in just an hour when a nurse came up to her, carrying a small package.

"Doctor Hahn,"

Erica turned around and looked tiredly at the nurse.

"This package has just come in for you."

She gave a murmured _thanks_ as the nurse handed the parcel to her, and wondered who would send something to her. Specifically, who would send something to her, and have it mailed to the hospital, because the few people that she was close to knew where she lived.

There was no return address, and the labeling for John's Hopkins had been printed off of the computer and taped.

Sighing, Erica gave in and opened it up.

All functions of her body stopped and she nearly fell over right there in the middle of the hospital hall. Which, in all honesty, would be ironic.

Five months ago, Erica Hahn came out as one of the biggest embankments for holding back water. The agreement that they had come up with a month prior soon got lost in a see of glasses and leaves.

Erica finally let oxygen into her body and her bodily functions began working once more. Inside the package she found exactly two things, and two things only.

A scrub-cap that had a fancy leaf pattern on it, and a note. The handwriting was much like any doctor's handwriting, but it was definitely more distinctive than most.

"_We can be scared together,"_

Six months after they came to an agreement, Erica Hahn realized that it could have been her six month anniversary with Callie Torres.


	6. Walked Away

George looked up from the chart that was just handed to him, and then nearly dropped it when he saw his once best friend walk into the hospital hand-in-hand with the once man whore. Lexie and Mark. Together. _Together_.

The younger Grey child gave a quick kiss to her boyfriend and flounced off to the intern locker room to get ready for rounds. Until, of course, she saw her once best friend.

"George," she said, almost abruptly.

"Lexie," he replied, almost coldly.

"H-how have you been?"

Clearing his throat, George looked back up and closed the chart. "You should probably get ready for rounds before Doctor Yang gets angry."

"Oh. Right." Lexie nodded, and continued on her way to the locker room.

George watched his once best friend walk away, and he mentally berated himself for letting her walk away.

* * *

Not really the greatest, but, meh. I hate Lexie and Mark together. I may lay off the Callica-esque drables for a bit... Ha. Like I could ever do that. No, seriously. I'll try to write others.


	7. Sparkly Red Dress

Callie sighed and broke apart her embrace from Arizona. The blonde surgeon looked at her with sympathetic eyes, bringing a hand to cup her face.

"Calliope…"

Wiping her eyes, Callie tried to bring a smile to her lips, but knew that it was only fake.

"Do you…" Arizona removed her hand and shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Um, want to come over to my place, tonight?"

And now the smile was real. Callie knew that there was more meaning behind Arizona's question, and that they might, possibly, be doing more than just drinking and dancing. "Yeah."

"Good," the other doctor grinned and stuck out her hand for Callie to take. "You know, I think you should wear your hair like that more often." She gestured, obviously, to Callie's head.

"What, half up?" Callie asked, unconsciously running her hands through her hair.

"Yeah. It looks nice."

"Well, I try," she smirked.

"Oh, and you should also wear a sparkly red dress." the two women were now walking through the hall, making their way to the locker rooms.

"A sparkly red dress?"

"Mmmhm. You also need a jazz band to fallow you around everywhere, too." Arizona said, defiantly.

"So, I need to go out and buy a red dress and find a jazz band to fallow me around the hospital?" the orthopedic surgeon raised and eyebrow and crossed her arms as they reached the stairwell. She received a nod in return. "And, may I ask why?"

"It makes you look like a jazz singer from the 1940s." A nurse walked through their conversation without even noticing them. "A _sexy_ one," she whispered, despite the fact that the nurse was out of earshot.

"Okay. I'll get right on that,"

"Really?"

Callie was already half way up the stairs before Arizona could reach her.

* * *

Mm. So. I like Callie/Arizona. A lot. But. Callie/Erica will always and forever remain my favourite. Any who... Am I the only one who seriously thought, based off of her hair, Callie could have pulled of a red dress in this episode?


	8. Jellybean

"So, I was thinking, tonight we could-"

"Ow! Jellybean!"

Callie gave Arizona a strange look as the pediatric surgeon wagged her index finger in the air and then immediately put it in her mouth. There was a stack of papers in front of her, and it was obvious that she had gotten a paper cut.

"Jellybean?"

Arizona removed her finger and continued to wag it around in the air. "When you work with children everyday, you have to be creative. Like when you get a paper cut and you really want to swear, but there's a six-year-old right next to you."

"But, really, _jellybean_?" Callie asked, trying to hide her laughter.

Arizona wrinkled her nose. "You're just jealous."

Callie smirked and lowered her voice. "Whether I'm jealous or not, you still looked really hot sucking on your finger,"

"Calliope! Six-year-olds!"

* * *

Just a quick one 'cause I really didn't feel like going to bed. I promise I'll try and do another pairing that doesn't include Callie and blonde attendings. Requests are accepted since I most likely will not be able to keep said promise.


	9. Friends?

A slightly different view.

* * *

Derek Shepherd liked to think that he had a lot of friends. They may not all be _good_ friends, like Mark or Richard, but he thought himself friends with every single one of them. Perhaps this was him being full of himself, but it was pleasing to know that if he passed someone in the halls of the hospital, he could wave and smile without worry.

But as Derek Shepherd made his way to the bar of _Joe's _while waiting for Meredith, he soon realized that there was one person that he really was not friends with.

"Doctor Torres," he said politely.

"Oh, hello Doctor Shepherd," she said with just as much politeness and an added smile.

He sat down, ordering his drink, and awkwardly cleared his throat. Callie turned her head to look at him, but he didn't smile.

"We never talk," Derek said, rather abruptly.

"Oh, um, well…"

"I mean, we're both good friends with Mark, and you were friends with Addison, so it would make sense that we would be friends." he continued.

Callie cocked her head to the side in thought, and chewed on her bottom lip. "Hmm. I think you're right."

"We should talk."

"Right now?" Callie asked, rising an eyebrow.

"Well, we are sitting right next to each other." Derek explained thoughtfully.

"That we are," she conceded, taking a sip of her own drink. "But I'm a afraid that we are going to have to finish this conversation some other time."

"That's okay," he smiled, thanking Joe as the bartender brought him his drink.

"You ready?" Erica had walked over to the two other doctors, and merely acknowledged Shepherd with a professional smile, to which he returned.

Hopping off of the stool, she nodded and paid for her one drink. Callie handed Erica the jacket that she had left on the stool when she went to the rest room and then took blonde's empty hand in her own.

Derek nearly choked on his drink as he watched the two women leave. So this was why he never talked to Callie.

* * *

Am I the only one who thinks it's mildly strange that Callie and Derek aren't really friends?


	10. Strolling

Oh, hey guys hey. I haven't posted anything in quite some time, yet I don't plan on suddenly getting back into posting on a somewhat regular schedule. Technically I'm supposed to be writing a sonnet for my Creative Writing class at this very exact moment, but I instead decided to type something up that I wrote a couple of weeks ago during pit orchestra rehearsal (_Bye, Bye Birdie_, in case you were wondering). And. Uh. Yeah. The end.

* * *

Chief Webber was walking idly down the halls of Seattle Grace Hospital, passing nurses and doctors alike. It became sort of a ritual for him, to walk around the hospital without an emergency to stress him out more than he needed. He rather enjoyed just watching his staff doing what they did best-- their jobs.

He quietened his footsteps upon passing the doors to the on-call rooms, having no doubt that at least _one_ doctor would be sleeping in one of the many beds. After all, Chief Webber always had the surgical floor staffed every minute of every day, so it was most definitely not uncommon to see a surgeon who had spent their night in the emergency room stroll into an empty room and take a nap before they were needed.

Webber paused for a moment and sighed contentedly. He was pulled from his own cheery thoughts, however, when the door to a nearby on-call room opened and one of his own surgeons walked out.

"Oh," She stumbled for a moment, clearly just noticing the chief standing in front of her. "Sorry Chief, I didn't see you there,"

"It's alright, Doctor Hahn." he said with a smile. Erica nodded her head and continued her way down the hall, straightening her white lab-coat and stopping only to fix her slightly mussed hair.

The door to the on-call room flew open once more, but Webber was seemingly unfazed by this. He simply looked at the doctor that walked out and smiled that same professional smile he had used with Doctor Hahn.

"Oh, hey chief!" Doctor Torres had a smile of her own as she flipped her hair back, running a hand through her curls. Only one arm of her lab-coat was on, but the chief failed to notice.

"Doctor Torres," he said. "I heard your lumbar spinal fusion went alright?"

"Yes, there weren't any complications and the patient is doing well," she replied, pulling the rest of her white coat on.

"Good, good..." Webber's voice trailed off as Doctor Torres went off towards the nurse's station.

He continued walking past the on-call rooms and rounded a corner on his left. It wasn't until he reached the surgical board when a thought hit him:

_Did Doctor Hahn and Doctor Torres walk out of the same on-call room?_

Chief Webber quickly made his way to his office where he kept all of the "Date and Tell" forms that he had issued upon all of his staff members. He rummaged through the files before finally pulling out the one that had _Doctor Calliope I. Torres_ scrawled in blue ink at the top. His eyes glanced over it until he read a name that he was not quite sure he was prepared to read or not.

Right underneath Mark Sloan's name it read _Erica Hahn_, all in that same blue ink.

Webber slowly sank into his chair and decided that perhaps walking around the hospital and watching his staff was a bit more than he was prepared to handle.


	11. Dusty Wardrobes

Izzie rolled her eyes as her left pocket wriggled and writhed. The device in it was vibrating, giving off the sound of a low hum. She pulled it out and looked at the small LCD screen with exasperation.

Meredith was calling her. Again.

She gave an irritable sigh before opening her cell phone and then slapping it shut to ignore the call. Meredith called her almost everyday, Bailey called her at least once a week, and even Cristina had tried contacting her numerous times. Alex, on the other hand, had given up ages ago, which didn't surprise Izzie at all. She was being a jerk to him, yes, but right now there were more important things that needed to be taken care of.

Izzie slipped her phone back into her left pocket, and buttoned up the thick jacket that had been hanging loosely on her arms. Quietly, she walked towards a large, wooden cabinet and pulled on its dusty handle. The wardrobe's door creaked, and she stepped in with her toe first.

Immediately, she was hit with a blast of cool, winter air.

It was definitely wintertime in Narnia.

* * *

Seriously. _Where_ is Izzie? At least we know that she's definitely not coming back.


	12. SRDP

"They're fake leaves, but they come from real plants."

* * *

Callie nearly fell into the bed, not even paying attention to the the clicking sound of the door as it closed. She had been on-call all night, and had just gotten out of a trauma surgery with Hunt that seemed to have lasted way longer than any other surgery.

She didn't even bother to kick off her shoes or even use the thin blanket, and merely adjusted the pillow slightly before peacefully closing her eyes. Finally, a chance to relax without immature interns and irritable patients.

Until the door flew open.

"I. Am. Sleeping." Callie growled, masking her eyes with her hands to shield the light from the hospital hallway.

"You went and got _married_ and you didn't even _tell me_?"

Callie's hand flopped to the side of the bed and she opened her eyes. "What? What are you talking about, Mark?"

"I'm talking about you and Blondie getting married!" He said, closing the door and walking closer to the bed.

"We're not _married!_" Callie said, sitting up on the bed to give Mark a skeptical look. "Where would you get that from?"

"The rings. See!" Mark pointed to the simple band on Callie's hand that distinctly resembled a wedding band. "Arizona's got one too."

Callie rolled her eyes. "We can't get married."

"What d'you mean?"

Callie rolled her eyes again.

Mark looked at her before realization hit him. "Oh. Right."

Callie rolled her eyes for a third time and nodded.

"So what, did you two just go to Canada or something? It's legal there, right?"

"State Registered Domestic Partnership, actually." She said, running a hand through her straightened hair.

"State Registered...what?" Mark cocked his head in confusion.

"State. Registered. Domestic. Partnership." Callie said, flopping back down on the bed.

"And that means...?"

"It means that we live together. And share a 'domestic life.'" She used air-quotes as a sort of mockery, and gave a yawn.

Mark sat down on the bed and scratched behind his head. "Basically, you two are doing the same thing you did before, only with rings and a government document."

Callie stifled another yawn, and rolled onto her side. "Mmhmm."

The bed remained still, with Mark sitting in contemplation and Callie falling asleep. Or at least trying too, because with Mark sitting there, she didn't have much room. She was about to push him off when the plastic surgeon broke out in a fit of laughter.

"I still can't believe you went and got married to Robbins!"

"State. Registered. Domestic. Partnership." And with that, she pushed him off of the bed and happily rolled over with her eyes closed.


End file.
